What You Do To Me
by ChiharuSato22
Summary: His eyes are empty, the other needs to compensate. In the end, what does that compensation resort to...? GrimmUlqui GrimmjowxUlquiorra Warning: YAOI


"No," The protest rang loud and clear inside the appartment. "I won't stand for this, Grimmjow. I will _not_ do _anything_ with you under these circumstances."

Grimmjow glanced at Ulquiorra—the look on his face wasn't quite disbelief because, after all, he had expected a reaction like that but it was the firmness and the distance that was ever-present in Ulquiorra's newfound tone of voice that chilled him to the bone.

"Ulquiorra..." he had adapted a much softer tone to address Ulquoirra with. There was a bit of shock mingled with yearning in his voice. Ulquiorra was seething.

There was a loud, cat-like hiss that came from Ulquoirra as a loud slap echoed through the building, Grimmjow was sure. "No," the voice Grimmjow adored to hear was, as of now, extremely pissed off at him—no, beyond that, "you just don't seem to understand, do you, Grimmjow?" The statement was firm and cold—it left no room for argument. At this point, though, Ulquiorra's face was contorted with emotion—something he had sworn never to feel. "Honestly," he began, his hand resting on the side of his face, "I can't believe you."

"Ulquiorra, you know I—"

Ulquiorra cut him off, "Silence, Grimmjow." Grimmjow quickly obeyed. "Look, maybe...maybe if you were _drunk_, I might have had a bit more...lenience—it wouldn't matter. But, the fact that you _slept_ with her and you were _not_ intoxicated at the time—perfectly sober—is what bothers me."

Grimmjow growled. "She seduced me, Ulquiorra." he stated rather flatly.

"If you had an ounce of commitment in you, you would not have fell for it." Ulquiorra replied just as blandly. Once again, there was no room for Grimmjow to argue that. Grimmjow knew it wasn't a matter of commitment, though. He would never be the way he was with Ulquiorra with anyone else—it simply wasn't _possible_.

Something that sounded to Ulquiorra very much like a pout, though, only he could ever possibly tell for, to anyone else, it would have sounded like a menacin growl, resounded naturally from Grimmjow's throat. "Come on," Grimmjow whined, "you know that's not it, Ulquiorra."

"That's _exactly_ why it bothers me." Ulquiorra's eyes flashed with anger—a stormy anger those green orbs had never known and might never know again. "I don't know _why_ or _how_ it happened. You know what's worse?!" Ulquiorra's voice had raised an octave or so higher and louder and his movements were quick and jerky and Grimmjow could have sworn he saw tears welling up in Ulquoirra's eyes. Never had Grimmjow regretted something so badly—never had he seen Ulquoirra look so terribly upset and act on it. "_Do you?_" Said voice had lowered its volume but the fact that it had been directed so cruelly and so bitingly got to Grimmjow. He could _feel_ it pierce him.

"What are you—"

Once again, Ulquoirra cut him off. In his mad frenzy, he had lost all patience for Grimmjow's constant ability to beat around the bush. "She's _pregnant_—with _child_, _yours_, Grimmjow! Don't you _get it?!_"

"I...Ulquiorra—"

Ulquoirra threw his hands up in the air in a desperation to get his point across. "You _don't_, do you?!" This time, Grimmjow was _sure_ those were tears. "The child will be all _alone_ when it is born!"

"She could always have it abor—"

"No!" By now, Ulquiorra's voice was high and shrill and Grimmjow could _tell_ that he was choking back sobs. "Anything but that...Grimmjow..." he whimpered, his legs giving out on him as he crumpled to a hopeless pile of limbs on the ground. Grimmjow rushed forward instinctively. Ulquoirra looked so..._weak_. It was too late, though. By the time Grimmjow had his arm around Ulquiorra to support him and was whispering comforting words to him, he could no longer see the tears and the emotion in Ulquoirra's eyes—both were gone, wiped clean away.

"Ulquiorra..." Grimmjow murmured, pulling his black bangs away from the grief-stricken, damned beautiful face of his. "It's going to be alright...come on, Ulquiorra..." he reassured him to the best of his abilities.

"No, it's _not_." he stated—there was something eery about the calm Ulquiorra now presented as he pulled himself out of Grimmjow's previously tight embrace. "It's the farthest thing from '_alright_'."

At this point, Grimmjow snapped. He grabbed Ulquiorra by his wrists and pinned his arms up against the wall. "No, _you_ don't get it. You're acusing me of things that aren't _true_ in the _least_. You think I feel nothing for you? You think I'm not committed? What do you think—"

Ulquoirra laughed a laugh that held no humour—the situation was anything but humorous, "It's because it's _true_, Grimmjow. All of things I said were _true_."

"They were not!" Grimmjow growled, leaning in closer, "They were anything _but_ true! You just don't know how _I_ feel, do you?! It's because you feel _nothing_—_all the fucking time_!" The looming presence over Ulquiorra had began to intimidate him just a bit. No, intimidate wasn't quite the word...he was beginning to feel almost _sorry_ until he remembered that the girl was pregnant with _Grimmjow's_ child. But, before he could retort, Grimmjow went on to say, "Why do you think I turn to _anyone_ else?!" That was a valid question...why _did_ he? "It's because of _you_! You drive me bloody _insane_!" Grimmjow's voice cracked. "Damn it...Ulquiorra...you don't get it, _do you_...? You say we're together and then...it's back to fucking '_trash_' and whatnot...this is the most you've _ever_ showed me—I'm going to lose my mind trying to stay with you...so _empty_...I don't even know why I..." Grimmjow choked on his own words, "why I _love_ you...so damned much...I must be a fucking idiot."

Ulquiorra was unmoved by this. "Let go of me, _Sexta_." The harshness of the re-established point of ranking made itself known immediately—it was back to "Cuarta" and "Sexta". How Grimmjow hated that... "Let me _go_, _Sexta_." Ulquoirra repeated, "I do _not_ wish to use force with you."

Grimmjow's grip tightened around his wrist—constricting, even. "Damn it, Ulquiorra...I really don't think you fucking _get it_." As Grimmjow reverted his gaze back to Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra could see the tears that fell from his eyes—sparkling in the dim light of the appartment. Ulquiorra flinched, just for a moment.

Before the regret could consume Ulquoirra, though, he buried it along with everything else. Faster than the eye could see, using sonido, he moved out of Grimmjow's grasp and was a good six feet away from him. "You're right, Grimmjow," There was a blissful agony that Grimmjow felt when he heard his name leave Ulquoirra's lips—like it was going to be the last time he would hear it from that angel's voice—_his_ angel. "I don't understand at all. You were right—I do not feel."

"No, you do." Grimmjow said, denying Ulquiorra his claim. "If you didn't, this wouldn't have happened."

"You got a girl _pregnant_. If this were Gin, he would have thrown a fit, too...alright, maybe Gin wouldn't have...but you get the point." Ulquiorra replied to this.

Grimmjow turned to Ulquiorra. "You talk like you _do_ get it, though, when, really, I know you don't." His breath hitched in a shallow, rapid breath before he continued. "Tell me...do you feel _anything_ for me?"

"I...think I do."

Grimmjow's eyes softened but it wasn't a good look—it was a bittersweet look. "You see? You don't _know_...if you felt the same...you _would_."

"How are you to _prove_ that?" Ulquiorra bit back childishly.

"That's just it..."

Grimmjow being mellow and, seemingly, depressed was new to Ulquiorra. If anything, he immediatley knew he ddn't like it. He acted on that thought. "Stop moping, Sexta. It's unsightly."

"I'm sorry that it's '_unsightly_'." Grimmjow said in an extremely sarcastic manner.

Ulquiorra sighed. "Look, I am _not_ going to put up with this. In other words, we're _through_."

"Ulquiorra—"

"You heard me, Grimmjow—we're _through_, _over_, _done_." A delicate, all-too-familiar frown marred Ulquiorra's beautiful face at that moment. He thought he would get over it. He wouldn't, though. Who was he kidding?

"Just listen to me!" he couldn't believe how desperate Grimmjow sounded at this point.

Ulquiorra found his tongue betraying him. "And, why should I?"

"Because..." Grimmjow rumaged around in his pocket and pulled out a small, black box. Kneeling on the floor (at this, Ulquiorra was immensely confused that it was almost comical had it been a different time and a different place for a different reason), Grimmjow spoke quietly, his face flushing with embarrassment, "I...was waiting for an appropriate time but..."

"What are you—"

"Just listen to me..." Grimmjow opened the box revealing a small, delicate ring with a small diamond resting beautifully on the band. "Ulquiorra..." he breathed out, "will you...marry me?"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Grimmjow had just _proposed_ to him in the middle of an _argument_. What in the world was he thinking? Still...it was endearing. No, he had announced that things were _over_! He was _not_ going to go back on his word right now.

He shook his head wildly and he could see Grimmjow's face fall apart. He suddenly felt really bad. It wasn't as though he _didn't_ want this...it was just... "Save this for the girl who will mother your child, Grimmjow."

"Fuck, no!" Grimmjow yelled, standing up. "You just...argh!" Had this been another time and place and situation, Ulquiorra would have laughed at Grimmjow's flustered expression. Still, it didn't amuse him less.

"Grimmjow..." Ulquoirra spoke softly, placing a hand over the box gently. "this should belong to the woman who will bear your child...you will be the child's father."

Grimmjow looked longingly at Ulquiorra and, before Ulquiorra could comprehend his movements, Grimmjow had captured him in a kiss. The desperation in the kiss was obvious but Ulquiorra pretended like he didn't see it.

As they separated, Ulquiorra whispered, "Stop it, Grimmjow..."

"But...I don't want to, Ulquiorra." Grimmjow complaind like a child who had been told to wash the dishes or do their homework. "I...I _can't_ ask anyone else but you...only you, Ulquiorra——only every you...You can't make me marry someone I don't love."

"You will grow to—"

"Bullshit," Grimmjow spat, "utter bullshit. I can hardly believe this is coming from _you_, of all people. What happened to the 'I don't give shit' attitude? What happened, huh? _Tell_ me, why do you suddenly care about this fucking woman you've never met—why do you care about a woman neither of us even know the fucking _name_ of, huh?"

Ulquiorra looked up at Grimmjow's eyes and could _see_ the intense passion burning into each word Grimmjow spoke—burning into Ulquiorra. "It's because..." He couldn't think of a reason, though. Why _did_ he care? "I don't know." he confessed, "But...I know you _should_."

"And I _shouldn't_ be in love with you, right? Since when has that stopped me?"

"Don't do this, Grimmjow...you know that it's the right thing to—"

Grimmjow hissed at him like an angry cat (what a cliche...), "You're talking to me like I'm someone who would _care_ about that when you know I don't give shit whether it's the '_right thing_'. I mean, fuck, if marrying someone just because I knocked them up even though I don't even know their damned _name_ when they seduced _me_ into doing it is the right thing, I'm not fucking doing it. You _know_ that, Ulquiorra."

Ulquiorra sighed. "Grimmjow...just...don't."

Grimmjow pulled Ulquiorra close to him—pressing him right up against his chest, "Can you feel it?" he asked quietly, "It's my heart—it beats for you and _only_ you, Ulquiorra. It'll never beat for someone else. If you make me, you'll be taking my life." Pulling this card was the last thing Ulquiorra would have expected.

"Grimmjow, that's not true and you _know_ it."

"It is." Grimmjow insisted, "You mean _everything_ to me and I _know_ that it's true, Ulquiorra."

"What you '_know_' is different from the truth—you only _think_ you '_know_'."

Grimmjow couldn't stand this—this disposition Ulquirora was beginning to harbour. It didn't suit him at all. "Stop belittling yourself, damn it." He smiled at Ulquoirra as he placed a sweet kiss on his forehead. "The most beautiful person in the world could never pull me away from you—I love only _you_. No, scratch that, you _are_ the most beautiful person in the world. Nobody could ever fucking compare, alright? So, don't talk shit like that—like you _know_ how great you are when what you see ain't half of it—you're only looking at the glass half empty."

"Never knew you were a pihlosopher, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra said, raising a brow in amusement. He was flattered, really, but that didn't mean that...well...maybe he could make an exception.

Grimmjow laughed. "That's the Ulquiorra I know and love. Don't go breaking down and shit, love 'cause I don't think that I _ever_ want to see you hurt...especially because of me."

"It wasn't because of you—"

"Sure, it wasn't, it wasn't—say whatever you want." Grimmjow sighed in relief. "...So...is that a '_yes_'?"

"Take a guess."

Grimmjow cooed happily which was completely out of character and grabbed Ulqiuorra's face and kissed his lips feverishly. "Damn it, you're hot when you're cocky."

"And you're _always_ cocky."

"Put a sock in it. No, I think you can put that mouth of yours to..._better_ use...to put something _else_ in there." Grimmjow raised his eyesbrows suggestively.

"You're a pervert, Grimmjow."

"You state the obvious." Grimmjow said without any shame.

Ulquoirra sighed. "Not now, I'm tired enough from today...no more of this, alright? No other women, no other guys—nothing like that, alright?"

Grimmjow saluted in a mocking manner. "Yes sir, Ulquiorra, sir!" Ulquiorra rolled his eyes at that.

"Right, right, good..."

Grimmjow pounced on him and kissed him, successfully knocking him to the floor. "Let's just do it right here, please."

There was an awkward pause as though Ulquiorra was contemplating giving in. "...On the kitchen floor?"

"Yes,"

Ulquoirra sighed whistfully. "Fine, fine...come on, you idiot."

Grimmjow urred happily (definitely a cat) and nuzzled into Ulquiorra's neck. "Thank you."

"Yeah..." Ulquoirra patted him on the back soothingly. "Just be careful..."

"Since when am I not?"

"Always." Ulquiorra stated blatantly.

Grimmjow pouted, though, it looked more like an indignant, immature huff. "Fine, fine...just hold still..."

Ulquiorra sighed, letting himself rest on the tiled floor of the kitchen.

In the end, he had given into Grimmjow...did the ring mean they were engaged? Oh....they would _definitely_ have fun explaining this when they got back to Las Noches. After spending about two months in the human world for reconnaissance they had been reduced to this. But, damn, it felt good. Well, they would have to deal with it. For now, Ulquora wiped the worry from his memory and focused on Grimmjow.

So what if they drove each other crazy? What else did they live for, right?


End file.
